


Sightedness

by Ryuchu



Category: Persona 5
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 06:23:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10893555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryuchu/pseuds/Ryuchu
Summary: When Mishima asked about Akira's sightedness, it was just a panic-driven attempt to change the subject. However, it somehow ends up getting Mishima way more than he ever bargained for.





	Sightedness

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything in forever and a day, but I love this ship and wanted to write something dopey, cuddly, and cute. So here we are. Not the best, but not the worst either.

\- PI PI PI -

The gentle buzzing and insistent chiming of his cellphone pulled Mishima from the world of his laptop and the Phan-Site. Blearily, he rubbed at his eyes and checked the small digital clock that rested at his bedside. 9:45, it glowed back at him in startling neon green. He hadn't even noticed the room growing dark around him.

Head still aglow with the rumors and requests of the Phan-Site, he couldn't help but click his tongue in annoyance at whoever was disturbing his work.

Until he saw the name Akira Kurusu at the beginning of the message and he could swear his heart did a physical flip-flop in his chest. The temptation to pinch himself was nearly overwhelming as he opened the message with trembling hands.

_Hey, we're having a study session tomorrow. You want to join us?_

He had to read the message another five or six times before it really sank in. This was real. This was happening.

Mishima's nerves got the better of him as he sprang from his bed and began to pace around his small room, his movements agitating the already roiling butterflies in his stomach. This was the first time Kurusu had invited him to anything. True, they had seen one another a number of times over the summer, but those were always at his prompting and solely for the sake of the Phantom Thieves.

At least, as far as Kurusu knew.

That thought was shoved back into the recesses of Mishima's mind as he felt color rise to his face. Not like his machinations had mattered much in the end anyways because it seemed like every time he tried to invite him out somewhere, they ran into someone Kurusu knew and the group number jumped from two to three.

But this time there were no Phantom Thieves pretenses, no requirement that he be the one making the plans – this time it was a twelve word text from Kurusu that made Mishima's heart jump into his throat and his palms sweaty with a cocktail of nerves and anticipation.

Would replying back immediately seem desperate? Would a simple _Sure!_ be enough? Maybe the exclamation point was too much?

How could he respond to this so Kurusu wouldn't immediately retract his offer?

His furious pacing came to an abrupt stop as the butterflies in his stomach quickly soured into dark pangs of anxiety. That's right. He didn't have a place among the Phantom Thieves. At best he was a tangential member of the group that they kept around because he was useful. At worst...

Mishima's finger hovered above the “Send” button as doubts and confidence battled for control. Kurusu had seen the ugly side of him, the side that had wanted to use the Phantom Thieves as a ticket to his own fame. Even when he tried to run away, he had chased him down. It would be fine. Kurusu wouldn't mind if this wasn't business related; he had invited him, after all.

And yet that ever persistent voice of “but what if...” seemed to scream louder than all the logic Mishima could gather against it.

“No, this is stupid! Just press the button!” With those words bolstering his courage, his finger slammed down on the “Send” button with far more force than necessary.

Hands still shaking, he threw the phone onto his bed and opened his laptop to the Phan-Site once again. He tried to distract himself with his duties as PR manager, but every few seconds he found his eyes wandering to the cellphone that rested against his thigh.

If the world were fair, he would have felt a rush of relief having sent that message, but instead the anxiety gnawed even more furiously at his thoughts. He absolutely could not mess this up.

When he felt a telltale buzz and heard those chipper chimes, he nearly jumped out of his skin. The Phan-Site instantly forgotten, he picked up his phone, excitement pulsing in his head. However, his expression shifted to utter confusion as he read the sender's name.

Ryuji Sakamoto?

Mishima's confusion only compounded when he read the message.

_Hey dude, sorry about crashing your date in Harajuku at the start of the summer._

_Don't worry though, I got you!_

_Good luck, man!_

Good luck? Good luck with what?

He was about to respond, vehemently denying that they had been on anything resembling a date, when his phone buzzed once again.

This time it was Kurusu and Mishima felt his heart jolt for what must have been the thousandth time that night. Every worry, fear, and anxiety came rushing back to him in a dizzying rush as he turned his attention to the new message.

_Great. We're meeting at Leblanc around one. See you then._

The response was simple and relaxed, just like him, but if Mishima's heartbeat was anything to judge by, it may as well have been a point blank confession of undying, eternal love.

“Come on, get a grip,” he mumbled aloud to himself, “It's just a study session with a few friends. It's no big deal.”

However, even as he returned to the Phan-Site, his mind kept raging with the possibilities. They wouldn't be alone, sure, so it wasn't like he could...come out and say it, but it wasn't too much to ask that there might be an “accidental” touch or two; just a little something to get him even the tiny bit closer to the oddly elusive Kurusu.

And there was that baffling message from Sakamoto.

_Good luck, man!_

What was that supposed to mean?

* * *

 

Mishima barely managed to get any sleep that night. His emotions swung from one extreme to the next, one moment thinking about was how everything could go perfectly, the next how everything could be an utter disaster. His work with the Phan-Site had him accustomed to late nights, but he usually didn't have this level of emotional turmoil to accompany it.

He slept through his first three alarms and he found himself rushing to get out the door, his appearance disheveled and disorganized from his restless evening. Even with his mad dash, he still showed up at Leblanc a good fifteen minutes late.

“I'm sorry I'm late!” He practically shouted as he burst through the door, “I slept through my alarm...and...”

He had expected at least a couple pairs of eyes staring at him, but he saw only one.

Akira Kurusu.

Kurusu had arranged himself in a booth, his schoolbooks and homework splayed across the tabletop. In his hand he held his cellphone, so Mishima assumed he hadn't actually started studying yet.

“Oh, Mishima,” He said with a slight smile, “Glad to see you could make it.”

“W-Well, yeah, of course,” He responded hesitantly. What was going on here? “You...did say we were meeting at one today, right?”

“Yeah, but apparently everyone had last minute plans come up and had to cancel. Even Sojiro was dragged away somewhere by Futaba.”

_Hey dude, sorry about crashing your date in Harajuku at the start of the summer._

Oh.

_Don't worry though, I got you!_

Oh no.

_Good luck, man!_

This was what that was supposed to mean.

Sakomoto knew. He knew, he knew, he knew! Oh god, he knew and he set this whole thing up! The group studying was just a ruse to give him and Kurusu a chance to be alone together! He should've told him instead of just dropping this on him! He wasn't ready! He didn't have time to plan this one like all his other date attempts!

“Mishima?”

The sound of Kurusu saying his name pulled him from his embarrassed panic. He knew he was supposed to say something, but instead he forced some weak laughter, affording him a few precious seconds to find the ability to speak again.

“W-Wow, that's weird. Super weird. Weirdest thing I've heard all day. Maybe we should just call it off.”

A part of him wanted to kick himself. Maybe he wasn't fully prepared, but this was the opportunity he had been searching for and he was actively volunteering to throw it away.

“No, it's okay. You came all the way here. I'm not going to turn around and send you back home. Here, have a seat.”

And as if that perfectly settled the matter, Kurusu motioned to the seat across from him before pushing his cellphone to the side and opening a textbook. Mishima stared at him dumbfounded. How could he just shrug off something like that? Did it really not bother him in the slightest that he was the only one that showed up?

The possibility brought an instant flush to Mishima's face that he tried his best to hide by shuffling over to the booth and removing his own textbooks from his bag. For a time, the only sound that filled the cafe was the clicking of pencils and the occasional rustling of papers. However, the longer the silence dragged on, the more agitated the butterflies in Mishima's stomach became.

They were really alone together.

He couldn't waste this opportunity. He had to do something, although what and why he wasn't quite sure. But it had to be cool. Suave, even. Yeah, he just had to think of something suave to say to sweep Kurusu off his feet. Something that would make him notice even a nobody like him.

“Are you stuck?”

“Huh?” Mishma looked up from his half-finished homework to find Kurusu staring at him intently. The butterflies definitely got a kick out of that one.

“On your homework,” he clarified, “You haven't written anything for at least five minutes. I may not be the honors student Makoto is, but I can help, if you'd like.”

“Oh! No! That's okay! I was just...uhm...lost in thought?”

“About what?”

For the second time that day, Mishima felt an overwhelming desire to kick his own ass. There was no way he could admit that he had been thinking about how to impress him. Frantically, he darted his eyes about, looking for something to save him. However, all his sight kept doing was settling back on Kurusu, who watched him with calm curiosity.

Dammit, he was so cool and mysterious with that one eyebrow quirked up in his unique way that Mishima had quickly fallen in love with. He was only making this harder.

“Y-Your glasses!” Mishima blurted out once the silence felt like it was literally suffocating him, “I was thinking about y-your glasses!”

“What about them?”

This time Mishima wanted to kick Kurusu. Why wasn't he letting this go?

“I was just...wondering if you're nearsighted or farsighted!”

The lie escaped him in a rush of colliding words and syllables rendered nearly incoherent by his nerves. It was stupid, so stupid, but it was out in the world now and there was no taking it back no matter how much he wished he could.

“That's an odd thing to be wondering about,” Kurusu tilted his head, his smile seeming to tweak up slightly at the corners.

“Y-yeah, haha, we should probably just drop it and get back to studying, sorry about that.”

Instead of saying anything, Kurusu took off his glasses and began to fiddle with them. Mishima found himself staring again, torn between two equally powerful desires: one, to pretend this conversation had never happened, and the other to memorize every detail of what Kurusu looked like without glasses.

“Which one's the one where you have trouble seeing things close to you?” He finally said as he put his glasses back on.

“Farsightedness, I think?”

“Ah, okay.”

With that, Kurusu returned to his work. Mishima, on the other hand, continued to stare.

That meant he was farsighted, right? So if he took off his glasses, he wouldn't be able to see anything that was close to him?

Maybe he wouldn't even notice how plain and boring he was when he confessed.

Maybe that would make him say yes to being his boyfriend.

The anxiety came back in full force as that thought crossed his mind with crystal clarity for the first time. He had come to slowly admit to himself that what he felt for Kurusu went beyond friendship and admiration, but to even entertain the idea that his feelings would be reciprocated...it was idiotic to think someone like him could ever pull it off and yet so intoxicatingly tempting.

He knew how glasses worked; he knew Kurusu would still be able to see vague shapes and outlines. But if his sight was just a little bit worse, it made the whole prospect of confessing seem...easier somehow. At least when he rejected him he could cry if he needed to without having to worry about that lowering Kurusu's opinion of him even further.

_Good luck, man!_

He wanted to.

He wanted to so badly.

But he needed that one last push. He needed a charm that would protect his confession from his own mediocrity.

The glasses had to go.

“K-Kurusu!”

The name was out of his mouth before he had time to develop a real plan. The other boy lifted his head, locking eyes with him and Mishima's mind went completely blank. He had no ability to form a coherent thought as he reached out towards Kurusu with trembling hands.

“What are you-”

“P-Please! Don't say anything yet!” Mishima cut him off as his hands found the arms of Kurusu's glasses. For what seemed like an eternity, they stayed locked in this position, Kurusu's eyes searching his for answers. Mishima swallowed audibly before leaning across the table and gently removing his glasses.

“I...I have something I want to tell you...something important,” Mishima began as his fingers idly played with the glasses he still held in his hands. “First, I...wanted to say thank you...for, well, a lot of thing. For Kamoshida, for letting me run the Phan-Site, for...sticking with me when I was using you guys to feed my own selfish ego. I showed you such a dumb, stupid, ugly side of myself, but you didn't give up on me, so I just wanted to say thank you. Again.”

Mishima gripped the glasses in his hands tighter. This was his chance, his moment. He had Kurusu's undivided attention. All he had to do was get the words from his heart to his mouth. All he had to do was not mess this up.

“A-And...and second...I...”

A loud ringing seemed to fill his skull as he tried desperately to find the right words.

“I think I'm in love with you!” He finally managed to blurt out much louder than necessary considering how close the two of them were, “And I mean romantic love. T-The kind where you go on dates and hold hands and k-kiss and I know that's weird but I wanted to tell you for so long and I'm sure you wouldn't date someone like me, but that's...that's...f-fine. I just couldn't keep it in any more and okay, you can talk now.”

Mishima felt breathless and heady with the release of the confession that had been weighing so heavily on his mind for weeks now. His eyes instantly left Kurusu's and settled on the glasses in his hands. He braced himself, certain that the best he could hope for was being let down gently and allowing their friendship to remain intact.

“Can I ask you why you took my glasses off?”

The question caught Mishima off guard and he found himself looking up a Kurusu once again. His expression was serious, although there seemed to be a tell-tale glint of a smile in his eyes.

“Well...I figured since you were farsighted, if I took off your glasses you wouldn't be able to see me as well and, I dunno, that just seemed to make it easier...”

Now that he said it aloud, it sounded childish and he felt his face flare in embarrassment.

“That's what I thought. But do you want to know a secret? Those glasses are non-prescription.”

“Non-prescription?” He echoed back dumbly as he looked down at the glasses once again, "But you said you were farsighted earlier..."

"I didn't say that. I just asked which was which. I can never keep them straight."

"You...you can't be serious..."

“I am," Kurusu's smile edged dangerously close to a smirk, "Go ahead, try them on.”

Mishima nodded almost robotically as he brought the glasses to his face and saw...well, nothing changed. It was just like he had said. Mishima felt his stomach churn with a dangerous mix of butterflies and anxiety as the implications of this revelation hit him.

“But that means...that I just confessed to you...completely normally...”

“Well, you still did take off my glasses, so I'm not sure it quite qualifies as completely normal."

“No, but, it means that you were able to see me clearly the whole time!” Mishima's voice rose in agitation and embarrassment, “That means you saw all the ways I screwed up and stumbled and made an ass of myself!”

“That's right.”

“Don't just say that like it's okay! I was so nervous I thought my heart was going to beat out of my chest! I must have been making the stupidest faces!”

“Hmm, I'm not sure if stupid is the right word," Kurusu drew a hand to his chin in mock ponderance, obviously enjoying this more than he should have been, "More...cute?”

“W-What kinda guy wants to be called cute!?”

“My boyfriend, maybe?”

“Then your boyfriend is weird!”

“I'll have to disagree with you there. He's a bit overzealous, sure, and sometimes it seems like he only cares about me because I'm a Phantom Thief, but at heart he's a good person. He might go astray, but he always comes back to what's actually important to him and that's one thing I love about him.”

Any response Mishima may have wanted to give was swallowed by Kurusu's words as he felt his eyes go wide in shock.

There was no way he was talking about him. No, he had to be misunderstanding something here. He sank back into the booth and stared blankly at Kurusu. Once again, his smile quirked up slightly at the corners, but his eyes remained sincere.

“No way...you're not seriously talking about me...are you?”

“Of course I am.”

“But I'm not...”

“You just confessed, didn't you? Am I not allowed to say yes?”

“Well, I mean, you can, but...are you sure?”

“Yes. Don't think I haven't noticed how many times you've tried asking me out on a date. I appreciated that, by the way. It was sweet.”

Great. He had even picked up on that. If Mishima could have disappeared into the floor at this moment, he would have.

“But-”

“We're dating now. It's as simple as that.”

Mishima stared at him, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. All that worry, all that anxiety, all those carefully laid plans and attempts at asking him out subtly on dates...there was no way it could resolve this quickly, this easily. Someone was playing a trick on him here. This was the part where Sakomoto and the others jumped out, right?

“Mishima.”

He looked at Kurusu once again. The other boy looked completely unruffled by anything that had just happened.

“I may not need my glasses, but I still kind of like them. Can I have them back?”

“Oh! Yeah, sure...”

Mishima carefully took off the glasses he was still wearing and handed them across the table. However, instead of grabbing them, a mischievous glint ignited in Kurusu's eyes and the next thing Mishima knew, he was being yanked by his wrist. The movement was so sudden and unexpected that he didn't even have a chance to react as Kurusu lightly pressed his lips against Mishima's.

The contact lasted all of two seconds, but that was enough to send Mishima's brain into overdrive, his body shooting backwards as he quickly covered his mouth in shock. He had prepared himself for all kinds of rejection, but this...this he didn't even know how to begin processing.

“Just a little something extra to make up for the trouble,” Kurusu said with a teasing smirk as he put his glasses back in place, “What kind of thief would I be if I let my boyfriend get away with stealing something from me?”

Mishima laid his face on the table in defeat, hoping the cool tabletop would help calm his raging blush. His heart pounded in his chest, his emotions ran completely haywire. This was supposed to be his big moment, but it looked like Kurusu had stolen away even that. He couldn't help but smile.

He should have known having a Phantom Thief for a boyfriend wasn't going to be easy.


End file.
